In December 1923, the body of 67-year-old Mrs Heath lay in an open coffin in the front parlour of her home in Nevill Street, Southport. Wreaths of evergreens gemmed with roses lay in the hall, and upstairs in the bedroom, Moira, the forty-year-old daughter of the late Mrs Heath, was being comforted by her close lifelong friend Anthony. Moira was so beside herself with sorrow, she couldn't attend the funeral, so Anthony had told the mourners he would stay behind with the grief-stricken lady. When the hearse took the coffin away, Moira and Anthony stood at the bedroom window, watching it turn the corner, past the Coliseum Cinema, and into the depths of a fog, followed by the entourage of cars.
Older readers, cast your mind back a bit and you may remember the "Maxi Mart" pages in the Liverpool Echo where you could buy and sell quite a range of miscellaneous items, including the kitchen sink! In February 1977, a Knotty Ash housewife named Chrissie Bradley saw a three-piece suite in beige vinyl advertised in the Household Goods column of the Maxi Mart. The three-piece suite was said to be in very good condition and the asking price was £25.
The religious Order of Mercy was founded in Ireland on the banks of the Liffey in 1831, and the nuns of this Order - the Sisters of Mercy - were soon doing their good work in other parts of the world. One of their convents was built in England in Victorian times in the city of Liverpool on Mount Vernon Street, situated between the Paddington, Low Hill and Kensington areas. By the 1960s, the Convent of Mercy had closed, but it the building had quite a supernatural reputation.
In the early 1960s, two youths from Hall Lane in Low Hill decided to burgle a house on Mount Vernon Street, facing the derelict Convent of Mercy. The house in question was inhabited by an old spinster named Mrs Smith, and local gossip had it that the elderly woman had her life savings hidden at the house. Mrs Smith was regarded by the people in her neighbourhood as something of an eccentric because she had pictures of the Scared Heart and the Virgin Mary proudly on display in most of her windows. Her parlour, said some of the more secularly minded neighbours, was like the Vatican, with crucifixes on the walls and statues of the Saints and Jesus cluttered about.
The Pied Piper of Hamelin is a legend, documented by the Brothers Grimm (Der Rattenfänger von Hameln, which translates to "The Ratcatcher of Hamelin"), which tells of an unusual disaster that occurred in the town of Hamelin (Hameln), Germany, 26 June 1284.
In 1284, the town of Hamelin was suffering from a rat infestation. One day, a man claiming to be a rat-catcher approached the villagers with a solution. They promised to pay him for the removal of the rats. The man accepted and thus took a pipe and lured the rats with a song into the Weser river, where all of them drowned.
The Devil Baby of Hull House
The legend of Hull House is commonly known to the people of Chicago. Hull House was a settlement house back in the early 1900s for immigrants. A woman gave birth to a child whose father was the devil. The mother, disgusted by the child, abandoned the baby at Hull House. The owner, Jane Addams, hid the baby in the attic and raised the child. The child died at a young age. Now, if you look into the second floor window of Hull House, you will see the face of the devil look back at you.
The Gosford Hieroglyphs, or “Gosford Glyphs” for short, are a series of strange, deep-cut markings on a rock in Hunter Valley, New South Wales.
Since their discovery in the 1970s, this set of 300 pictures has achieved widespread notoriety due to their resemblance of ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs.
What’s more, the area also seems to have a large, labyrinthine structure of strangely straight caves and tunnels underneath the stone. Does this mean that ancient Egyptians somehow managed to travel to Eastern Australia, and brought their rock-working tools along for the ride? How did they manage that? Was it magic? Were they helped by aliens?
It depends on who you ask. Steven Strong, the leader of a group of amateur archeologists researching the area, says that the amount of existing evidence (along with a second series of glyphs that his team has recently found) means the area still clearly has many strange mysteries to hide.
Meanwhile, Egyptology expert Boyo Ockinga, from Sydney’s Macquarie University, has stated that the site has nothing to do with Egyptians. According to him, the glyphs are poor imitations that were most likely made by Australian soldiers who visited Egypt during World War I and developed a fascination with the culture
I work at a small motel in Tennessee. I've been at this place along time and had heard stories of the owner's first wife passing away on the property. She was said to have fallen down a flight of stairs and died instantly. Years after her death, the upstairs attic area was remodeled and made into rooms. A few months ago, I was alone at the motel working. The front desk was closed due to slow business during the winter months. I had only two or three rooms to clean then I would be heading out. One of my rooms due to check out that day was on the upstairs level. I noticed the car belonging to the lady I saw go into the room the day before was still there. My fist thought was that she had went shopping or walking through town before leaving.
The story of the Black-Eyed Kids inspired me to send in my story because I think I ran into the adult version, though there was no feeling that I would die:
It was a nice sunny day in November and I had been out running some errands. I decided to stop at Starbucks on my way home to get some tea. There were a lot of people at Starbucks, no surprise. I got my tea, headed out the door, had to stop and organize myself as my keys migrated to the bottom of the purse and I still had to get my wallet in! So I plopped the stuff down on an open table and tried to get my act together. I felt like I was being watched, so turned around to give whatever to the perv that I assumed was watching me, and the smart aleck remark died in my mouth as I caught sight of him and made (inadvertent) eye contact.
This happened when I was about 8 years old. We moved to a small mining town with a very small population. We went and looked at the houses there and there was this house that my parents decided on that gave me this creepy feeling. I still remember it like it was yesterday there are feelings that you can shake off and then there are the ones that stick with you for the rest of youre life.
Now this house was a 3 bedroom place there with a pond outside the yard was not big at all. The one room in the house had me frightened I did not like to walk past it or even go in there. It ended up being my sister's room, she is 3 years younger than me. When ever I had to go in there I will have all of these mixed emotions, anger, crying, and feeling outraged. The one night my sister came to my room crying, and she tells me the lady is standing at her bed. I told her that she can sleep with me in my room.
We knew right from the start that Johnny was going to be a soldier. Even as a child, all his concentration was on the military. So we weren't surprised when he joined the Marines right out of high school.
Johnny excelled in his chosen career. He was so happy to be serving his country. I could see it in his face every time he came home on leave. He was itching to get into some "real action", something that - as a mother - frightened me. He was my only son, and I didn't want to lose him. But he was also a grown man with a wife and a baby on the way. I was very proud of the way he was living his life.
When Pilar arrived, I relayed the message. "You know," she replied,"our neighbor's maid Helen died and the body is at the funeral parlor downtown. She got a malignant growth in her uterus after all those abortions."
"That must've been another Helen on the phone, or someone's pulling a prank," I concluded.
As a writer of Victorian novels that have a definite Gothic twist, I’ve often been asked if I draw upon any personal events regarding ‘ghosts’ which are then included in my work.
I have had experiences that might be considered ‘supernatural’, but whether this is a real force, or an internal manifestation of extreme emotions such as grief, well, I am in two minds about such things.
But there is one event very clear in mind from the time of the death of my step-father — a man who had loved me as his own and for whom I had the greatest affection.
Wendy Leigh saw the great love of her 20's after he died
I’ve never believed in ghosts, but three years ago I had an earth-shattering manifestation of the ghost of a dead former lover.
His name was Richard, he was 6ft 2in, with bright blue eyes, dark hair and a smile that could warm an Arctic winter.
Santa Montefiore's earliest memories are of seeing shadowy figures wandering around my bedroom at night
I have seen spirits since I was a child. My earliest memories are of seeing shadowy figures wandering around my bedroom at night. They seemed darker than the darkness, and appeared unaware of or certainly uninterested in me.
I’d watch them in terror, my heart racing, until I found the courage to reach out and switch on the light. At that moment they would disappear.
Hannah Betts' new home outside Birmingham boasted three spectres: a woman who paced the ground floor, an aged doctor forever racing up the stairs searching for a dying grandson, and the victim of a confrontation that had spilled over into murder
I consider myself a sceptical atheist, yet spooks inveigled their way into my life in a way that made their existence impossible to deny — much as I and my family wished we could.
One summer in the early 1970s, I’d travelled ahead of my family to work in the bar of the Old Head Hotel in County Mayo, which is where we holidayed each year.
Along with several girls working as maids, waitresses or front of house, I was billeted in what was known as The Annexe, a converted stable behind the kitchen.
These days, Health & Safety would call it uninhabitable, but our excitement at being away from home and hitching into the local dances each night went a long way towards helping us ignore the damp and mould.
If we adhere to theory -- ghosts are deceased humans, while demons and angels are not of earthly origin. Both are known to have stronger powers than your average ghost. You'll find a demon more apt to move objects and possess the human body, just as you'll find an angel more awe inspiring and willing to help the suffering human condition than a ghost.
The following chilling story is from the annals of the now-defunct Lancashire Spiritualists Society, which was based in Liverpool, England, until 1939.
There stands a Victorian house in Bidston on the Wirral in north-west England, which was once the scene of a disturbing supernatural incident that allegedly occurred in 1920. The house was bought by two sisters who had been left a substantial legacy in 1919, and their names were Victoria and Margaret Webster. Margaret was 19 and Victoria was 24, and they originally came from Neston, but heard about the beautiful terraced house in Bidston after the death of their father, a wealthy shipping magnate who left his daughters thousands of pounds. Mrs Webster had died after giving birth to Margaret in 1901.
The following story is about an evil discarnate being which may have been responsible for thousands of deaths in 18th century Liverpool, England. The tale is the most incredible one I have ever researched, and it suggests a sinister conspiracy in high places. It all began in the early 1970s.
One wintry night in 1972, the Joneses, a family of four in Old Swan heard a faint regular thumping noise which sounded like a human heartbeat. The strange pulsation seemed to be coming from below, and getting stronger by the minute. By midnight, the throbbing vibration was driving the Jones family to distraction. The budgerigar became hysterical in its covered cage, the family dog started to howl, and the goldfish swam around their tank as the weird pulse shook it.
The first time I realized we had a ghost in our house was one summer day when my siblings and I were sitting in the washroom. I always heard stories about there being a ghost in the house, but as the youngest thought they were only trying to scare me. The washer and dryer were right next to the stairs that led down to the basement. My brother and sisters determined to prove our house was haunted, had us all gather in the back room to be certain it wasn't a trick.
My oldest sister began knocking on the wall. There was an immediate response from someone knocking in the basement. This continued for several minutes, but soon the gentle knocks from the basement turned into bangs. The bangs stopped and we heard footsteps coming up the basement stairs. We immediately proceeded out of the room, but before we could get out, the door began to close. We pulled it open and ran into the living room. After that it was deadly silent.
In the month of May, 1866, Liverpool was hit by a cholera epidemic which killed hundreds. One of these unfortunate victims was a beautiful raven-haired girl who'd just turned 16, and her name was Maureen Allen. Maureen was the youngest member of an Irish family that had recently settled in Rose Place in the Everton district of the city.
Maureen was laid in a coffin, and the Irish custom of observing a 'wake' commenced, even though the authorities were opposed to this, because they didn't like the idea of a body that had died of cholera being put into an open coffin, but the Allen family told the powers-that-be to mind their own business, and the wake went ahead, as did the ritual drinking, feasting and lamentation, which went on all night during such occasions. On the evening of the wake at around 7 o'clock, every member of the Allen family headed for a pub in Great Homer Street to drown their sorrows. George's 19-year-old niece, Shannon, who had only been in Liverpool for a week, volunteered to mind the house.
They were not even close to the main camp when the sandstorm storm hit, blasting hot sand into their eyes, hair, and skin. The wind whirled above, around, and under the hasty shelter the two cowboys had set up, offering no protection at all. They took small sips of water every hour or so to relieve the dryness of their throats and to shift about to keep from being buried completely under the sand.
This story takes place about 15 years ago. My husband and I were living in Phillipsburg, New Jersey. This is the only time I can remember having a psychic dream.
The dream started out with "me" facing a 20-something-year-old woman and she said defiantly, "I'm not afraid of you." She was sitting on a couch in a living room looking straight at me. I realize I'm seeing this whole thing through the intruder's eyes.
My huband and I moved in to a house in Greeley, Colorado in March of 2009. About a month ago, we were getting ready for bed, turned off the light and the tv, when we heard a noise coming from the dresser that's by the foot of our bed. The dresser has metal handles. It sounded like someone was lifting the handle and letting it drop.
In Greek mythology, a satyr is one of a troop of ithyphallic male companions of Dionysus with horse-like (equine) features, including a horse-tail, horse-like ears, and sometimes a horse-like phallus. Early artistic representations sometimes include horse-like legs, but in 6th-century BCblack-figure pottery human legs are the most common. In Roman Mythology there is a concept similar to satyrs with goat-like features, the faun being half-man, half-goat. Greek-speaking Romans often used the Greek term saturos when referring to the Latin faunus, and eventually syncretized the two. The female "Satyresses" were a late invention of poets — that roamed the woods and mountains. In myths they are often associated with pipe-playing.
I am both open minded and skeptical. I think there is so much fake stuff out there that its hard to pick out threads of fact or perceived reality from fantasy and conjecture. There have been a few occasions of what are or seem like paranormal events in my life. I have a few stories, and I think most people have at least one thing that they keep. They are often intended only for us. This particular event definitely caused me to change my at times cold and aetheistic view of reality. In fact, it seems that when I slip into this frame of mind at points in my life, it is then that some little thing pops up to flip me out and say: this is not all that there is.
November of 2013 up to now, Dunedin, Florida. After three months of weird stuff going on, I started to research it. First of all, I don't believe in ghosts or the devil and I am not religious. I sway to the Buddha and Hindu beliefs, but practice only being the best person I can be. My point is, I am simple and level-headed.
When I arrived at my friend Pilar's for a visit sometime in the 1980s, the phone rang. It was a woman looking for Pilar and calling herself Helen, and she wouldn't give a last name. Since Pilar was out, I asked if she'd leave a message or number. The caller said she just wanted to say goodbye to Pilar and the kids. When I asked if she was going or moving somewhere, the line was cut off.
The year was 2004 in the month of July. My close friend of twenty-plus years and his cousin were driving to his cousin's home Laikipia district that borders the famous Mount Kenya, a mountain that is on the equator, also the home to Mount Kenya Safari Club.
This incident took place at my now old house in Connecticut in the middle of winter, 2010. I was about 17 years old. My parents go out to eat every Friday and this Friday was no different. I usually tag along, but I just bought a new game for my Xbox and wanted to stay home and chat with my friends and play my new game.
My supervisor radioed me just after sunrise on a warm summer morning in 1929 to report another incident aboard the shipwreckedE.C. Waters out on Stevenson Island.
“A bunch of drunks were boozing and brawling on the boat last night,” he said in a grumpy tone that clearly indicated his lack of morning coffee.
This story is not related to me in any case!
This story was related to me by my brother Harlan, who went to the hospital in Rosebud in April, 2012 due to his headaches caused by being hit with a baseball bat in his younger years. After being seen in the ER and then released around 2:00 a.m, he started to walk home as he couldn't get hold of any of the family.
He smiled as he sipped at his coffee. It had been an excellent hike. He was glad his friend had recommended coming to the Hanging Hills in Connecticut; not the first place that had come to his mind when considering a vacation. But it was beautiful here. When his friend arrived tomorrow they would tackle some of the more challenging terrain.
She was sophisticated, poised, and cultured. In retrospect, this should have made them suspicious. A teacher like her should be presiding over a girl’s school in London or New York, not seeking a position in a small town in Georgia. But at the time, they were too delighted by her application to ask any questions.
The infamous Red Dwarf (Nain Rouge) of Detroit was reputed to be the foul offspring of the Stone God, who only appeared when there was to be trouble. The Red Dwarf was called "The Demon of the Strait" and its appearance heralded disaster. Cadillac, founder of Detroit, encountered the Nain Rouge while sitting on the bank of the Detroit River. The Red Dwarf had jumped down right in front of the French Colonial governor, startling him nearly out of his wits, and thrust a long stick at him as if it were a sword. Harried by the imp's whacks, Cadillac drew his own sword and parried, beating the creature back with the flat of his blade until it ran away, cackling madly. From that moment, Cadillac's fortunes took a down-turn, and he was eventually recalled to France, losing his trade monopoly and all his privileges.
Aunty Greenleaf was a scrawny old woman with a wild thatch of gray hair and a crooked nose. She lived in a hut surrounded by pines just outside Brookhaven, and she sold herbal remedies to the folks in town. Mostly, people avoided her, except when someone got sick because it was said that Aunty Greenleaf was a witch. Her home remedies worked too well to be natural. Folks figured she had to have help from the devil or one of his familiars.
When I was a kid, my grandparent’s bought a huge old boarding house in Jersey City. It had once housed the actresses working for a big silent film studio across the street, but the film studio was long gone, and the boarding house was unused. My grandparents converted it into a 3-family home. They moved into the bottom floor, offered my parents the second floor, and rented out the third. It worked out pretty good for everyone. Extra income for my grandparents, privacy for our family with quick access to Grandma when it was wanted or needed, and the couple on the third floor were quiet. Very quiet.
I had a call to a residence for a mental evaluation or a “5150.” Anyways, I get there and speak to a 50-something-year-old woman, who states her 20-something-year-odd son is under the influence of an unknown drug, and kept repeating that he can’t go in his bedroom because there was an old man hanging in his room. She stated she was too scared to go in his room and investigate it for herself, because he constantly brings over friends that are drug addicts, and is unsure if his claims were true or not.
There once was a lighthouse keeper who had lived on St. Martin's Island with his children, whom he loved dearly. They were all alone there, for the mother had died long before. Wanting the best for his daughter and son, the keeper had insisted that they continue their education, and for this purpose had purchased a small dory for them, which they rowed across to the mainland each day to attend school.
There are some haunted woodlands that are paranormal hotspots! In addition to numerous manifestations, they are also noted for cases described as 'high strangeness'. This definition basically describes incidents or entities that are bizarre in comparison to the more usual form of ghostly encounter.
The location below is a good representation of a high strangeness site:
Alien: (UFO, Martian, Extraterrestrial) A being from another planet or world other than Earth. Some are said to have large round heads, large eyes, and very thin fragile-looking bodies. Also said to arrive by way of a spaceship or unidentified flying object, usually depicted as being a "flying saucer" of sorts.
Angel: A being originating from the Christian Holy Bible. Thought to be God's helpers, capable of protecting humans, bringing God's messages to humans, and also fighting Satan's forces. Usually depicted as resembling a human but with gigantic wings and golden halos around their heads.
Shoreham-by-Sea in West Sussex is an ancient place. New Shoreham, which forms the bulk of the village, has origins that stretch back to the time of the Romans, so quite how old that makes Old Shoreham is anyone’s guess. Relics of the past abound in Shoreham; nowhere more so than on the banks of the River Adur, the body of water that once stood at the heart of the local community.
The events described are alleged to have taken place between 2007 and 2009 and involved a number of individuals living in the area. In this account, names have been changed and actual addresses have been concealed. According to the author, two major British Newspapers began investigating the disturbances, though no report made it into their pages. The report begins in April 2008.
Most ghost stories relate to old buildings. The spirits involved are like a flashback in time, frozen in a repetitive action, oblivious to the surroundings of modern life. Poltergeists however, are something entirely different. They haunt people, not places, and they deliberately make their presence known. Poltergeists demonstrate a level of intelligent interaction with the living world that is not known amongst other types of ghost. Opinion is split on exactly what “poltergeists” are. Some argue that they are energy sources, originating from living people. Others suggest that they are the spirits of the lingering deceased.
A California Outlaw Story
Joaquin Murietta and wife Rosita lived with his older brother Carlos in California. The three Mexican immigrants were living on a small, successful farm and the men were also working a claim near Hangtown. However, the other miners living nearby tried to run them off, telling them that it was illegal for Mexicans to pan for gold or hold a claim. The Murietta brother's ignored their threats and continued to live peacefully on their farm and work in the gold-fields.
I was about eight when this happened, so it would have been around 2000 or 2001 in southeast Kansas. My dad and I lived in a doublewide trailer in the country, so our house was surrounded by woods. I had a German shepard-husky mix that was chained up outside behind our house. My dad decided to shoot off some fireworks, and knowing they scared my dog, I went and sat in her dog house with her. After about five minutes, I heard my dad go inside.
According to Jewish folklore, a dybbuk is a ghost or disturbed soul that possesses the body of a living being. In early biblical and Talmudic accounts they are called "ruchim," which means "spirits" in Hebrew. During the 16th century spirits became known as "dybbuks," which means "clinging spirit" in Yiddish. There are numerous stories about dybbuks in Jewish folklore, each with its own take on the characteristics of a dybbuk. As a result, the specifics of what a dybbuk is, how it is created, etc, vary. This article highlights characteristics that are common to many (though not all) of the stories
told about dybbuks. In many stories a dybbuk is portrayed as a disembodied spirit. It is the soul of someone who has died but is unable to move on for one of many reasons. In stories that assume there is an afterlife where the wicked are punished, the dybbuk will sometimes be described as a sinner who is seeking refuge from the punishments of the afterlife. A variation on this theme deals with a soul that has suffered "karet," which means that it has been cut off from God because of evil deeds the person did during their life. Yet other tales portray dybbuks as spirits that have unfinished business among the living. Many stories about dybbuks maintain that because spirits are housed inside bodies, wandering spirits must possess a living thing. In some cases this can be a blade of grass or an animal, though frequently a person is the dybbuk's preferred choice. The people most often portrayed as being susceptible to possession are women and those living in homes with neglected mezuzot.
The stories interpret the neglected mezuzah as an indication that the people in the home are not very spiritual. In some cases a spirit that hasn't left this world is not called a dybbuk. If the spirit was a righteous person who is lingering to serve as a guide to the living, the spirit is called a "maggid." If the spirit belonged to a righteous ancestor, it is called an "ibbur." The difference between a dybbuk, maggid and ibbur is really in how the spirit acts in the story. How to Get Rid of a Dybbuk There are probably as many different ways to exorcise a dybbuk as there are stories about them. The ultimate goal of an exorcism is to release the body of the possessed person and to release the dybbuk from its wanderings. In most stories, a pious man must perform the exorcism. Sometimes he will be assisted by a maggid (beneficent spirit) or an angel.
About a year ago, some family members were visiting from Monterrey, Mexico, and as we were done eating, conversation started about ghosts and aliens. My aunt from Mexico was telling us how my nine-year-old niece would see an old lady by the fireplace for years until they left that house.
An Oregon Tall Tale
We were up-river with a tour group looking at all the natural beauties here on the Rogue River when I spied a young sasquatch hiding in the shadow of a tree near a gravel bank. I swung the tour-boat around so we could get a better look, and all the tourists exclaimed and took pictures. It’s not too unusual to see a sasquatch in the spring. That’s the time they migrate through here to their summer stomping grounds up North.
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